“It depends on what she’s been doing. If, for instance, she got into meth, she’d go downhill pretty fast. I’ve seen dramatic changes in people over a period of time as short as four or five months, relative to how much they’re using.”
Megan broke in before Jeff could say more. “I know my sister, and she would never get involved with that crap! If this is her in the picture, and I’m not sure it is, something else is going on in her life. Have any of you considered that she may be suffering from some sort of mental illness?” She stopped short of saying “schizophrenia.” “And anyway, why are you so sure it’s her?”
Deidre tried to calm Megan. “For several reasons, including that this person used Maren’s PIN at the ATM, we believe this is your sister.”
“I warned her about this,” Megan exclaimed. “She wrote her PIN inside the flap of the coin pouch of her purse. She wrote it backwards, and said it was in case she had a ‘brain fart’ and forgot the number. She should have known better, but she laughed off my warning.”
Jeff shifted in his chair, and then stood up. “Well, folks, I’ve got work tomorrow and have to get home for some rest. You’ll be the first to know if they find Maren, or whoever this woman is.” He held up the pack of photos.
Deidre and Ben accompanied him to the door. “Jeff, thanks for all the time you’ve put into this and for your personal attention. We appreciate it,” Ben said.
Once Jeff was outside, they returned to the living room and the family stayed up most of the night, talking over what they had learned.
Chapter
Forty
THE NEXT SEVERAL DAYS passed with the family waiting expectantly, flinching each time the phone rang, not wanting to leave town for any reason. But after a week passed since Jeff had shown them the pictures from the ATM with still no word about Maren, they began to descend from their high. Everyone felt deflated and they were, again, thrust back into the abyss of the unknown.
On the first day of school, Deidre fixed a special breakfast and Ben paid special attention to his sons, wishing them a great first day. Deidre puttered in her garden after they left. Later in the morning, when the early September sun warmed the land, Deidre went inside for a glass of ice water and picked up the pack of photos Jeff had left. By this time they were getting a little tattered around the edges from being thumbed through so many times, but she wanted to look at them again.
The trail to the family’s picnic spot by the river hadn’t been used as much as usual, and in places the weeds had grown knee deep. Deidre paid little attention, plowed through them, and soon was slouched against her favorite cedar tree. She stared at the first photo, the one of a woman facing an ATM machine. She meticulously studied every detail of the picture. The way the woman stood wasn’t exactly like the way Maren did, but on the other hand, she figured, a still picture represents only a point in time. Perhaps she was caught in an awkward pose. Deidre flipped to the next photo, and the next, which showed the woman turning so the camera caught her profile.
Deidre studied every millimeter of the photo, allowing her eyes to trace the outline of the woman’s chin, her nose, the shape of her ear. The picture was grainy and slightly blurred, but Deidre continued to look for discrepancies between what she was seeing and what she remembered. A wave of sadness overwhelmed her, and she realized she had already begun to forget the details of Maren’s features. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and in the warmth of the sun, she drifted off to sleep.
“Mom, Dad,” Deidre heard Maren call. Deidre saw a young woman standing in front of her. “It’s me, Maren!” But the young lady had no face. Well, she had a face with no discernable characteristics, rather like her face was made from Silly Putty that had sagged until the features were totally blurred. “Mom, don’t you recognize me? It’s me, Maren, your daughter. Have you forgotten already?”
Try as hard as she might, she couldn’t recognize her daughter’s face. “Mom, say something.” Deidre opened her mouth, but no sounds came out, and her guts tightened as her panic mounted. “Well, if you’re not going to talk to me, I’m leaving.” The blonde woman turned and walked away. Deidre tried to shout out, but it was as though she was in a vacuum. Her mouth moved, but nothing happened, and then the woman was gone in the haze of her vision.
Deidre woke, confused and calling out, “Maren!” She looked around and realized she had been dreaming. The pile of pictures had slid off her lap onto the ground, her neck was kinked, and her head ached. She checked her watch. Almost an hour had passed since she sat down. Her heart beat rapidly, and she still felt vaguely panicked. Deidre sat, stunned, for several minutes, convincing herself that it was all a dream. Finally she picked up the pictures, forced herself to stand, and returned home, badly shaken.
*****
IN THE QUIET OF HER KITCHEN, Deidre worked to fix supper. She had absentmindedly picked four green peppers from her garden, thinking that a year ago the task would have been one of pleasure and not drudgery. She boiled rice, mixed it with pieces of chopped-up bratwurst, added onions and out-of-the-jar marinara sauce, simmered the concoction in a frying pan, and stuffed the hollowed-out peppers. She placed them in a baking dish, sprinkled mozzarella cheese on top and slipped it into the oven. It was a mindless series of steps.
After a half hour, she checked to see how the peppers were cooking. The oven was cold. She had forgotten to turn it on. Deidre set the oven at three hundred seventy-five degrees, sat down on a chair, and wept while the oven went through its pre-heat cycle.
After it was cooked, Deidre set the evening meal in the refrigerator just in time to hear Ben’s vehicle pull into the driveway. He didn’t bother to get out, but waited for her to climb in the passenger’s seat. Ben leaned over and gave her a quick kiss.
“How was your day?” he wanted to know.
“It was okay,” Deidre answered. She didn’t feel up to telling him about her dream. “Yours?” she asked.
“Okay, I guess.”
They rode in silence until they came to the football field. Steve and Jack were preparing to play their first game of flag football, and when she saw them in their uniforms, Deidre was surprised at how grown up they were becoming. She waved at them, but both boys pretended to ignore her. With regret she thought, So they’ve reached that age when they need their parents but don’t want their friends to know they do.
Deidre and Ben sat with the other parents and cheered for the home team. Well, actually both teams were the home teams, the Vikings and the Steelers. Jack and Steve played for the Steelers, and when the final whistle was blown, their team had won 63-56.
On the way home, both boys were jubilant, going over the game play by play. Deidre and Ben smiled at each other. It was as though they had been at a different game than the boys were remembering.
Supper was eaten two hours later than usual, and when they finished, Deidre steered the boys to the stairs. “I’ll be up to tuck you guys in soon. Don’t forget to floss and brush.”
Amidst the grumbling and stomping on the stairs, Steve and Jack obeyed. Jack spoke over his shoulder, “You don’t have to tuck us in anymore.” Then he added, “But you can come in and say goodnight.” Deidre thought that was all right. They still needed her.
Chapter
Forty-One
THE NEXT MORNING Deidre’s routine was just that, routine. She fixed a simple breakfast for Ben and the boys: scrambled eggs, toast and jelly, a glass of juice, milk for the kids and coffee for Ben. While they ate, she made sandwiches, wrapped a couple of cookies for each of them, and added an apple to their lunch bags. Just in time for the boys to catch the school bus, she shooed them out the door, kissed Ben goodbye, and gave a sigh of relief. Mission accomplished.
She strolled to the mailbox by the road, looked at the clear, blue sky and inhaled the scent of early fall. As usual, the Duluth newspaper had been delivered in the early hours of morning, and she picked it out of the yellow plastic tube where it had been inserted by the delivery person. She made a
mental note that when Christmas came she would give him a generous tip for his reliability.
Back in the kitchen, Deidre spread the paper out on the table, poured herself a cup of coffee, and waited for the toaster to give up the two slices of bread she had put in it. She sipped the steaming brew, and in two minutes that seemed like twelve, the toast sprung up from the guts of the appliance. She spread peanut butter on one slice and raspberry jam on the second, smiling as she did so. Jack called raspberry jam “seed jelly” because of the seeds that were so prevalent. Deidre plunked herself in a chair and nibbled at the peanut butter toast, then took a bite of the raspberry jam toast, trying to make up her mind which one to eat first. She thought maybe she’d alternate, a bite of this one, a bite of that.
The lead article on Section B was about domestic abuse, and she had her nose in the paper, concentrating on the article. She read, “one in three women will experience some form of abuse at some time in her life.” That was a statistic of which she was aware, and she remembered sitting at a concert listening to an all-girls choir. She had actually counted the number of girls on the risers, and then numbered them off by threes. Every third girl would become a victim. Well, perhaps not the ones she called “three,” but statistically, one-third of them. She was so involved in the article that when her phone rang, she continued reading while reaching for her phone.
“Hello,” she answered, not bothering to look at the caller ID.
“Deidre.” Jeff ’s voice sounded strange, and he didn’t continue.
Deidre sat erect in her chair. “Jeff, what is it? Something’s wrong, isn’t it.” Her first thought was of Ben, driving to work on the expressway. Her mind flitted to another scenario. One of the boys. Both of them? And Deidre’s heart literally skipped several beats while her guts knotted.
“Jeff, are you there?”
Finally Jeff was able to speak. “Deidre, you’d better get a hold of Ben and the rest of the family as soon as you can. The police in Minneapolis have Maren in protective custody. They say she is so strung out on something that she isn’t making sense, but she has her purse with her. Everything checks out: eye color, hair, height. But they say she’s so wasted that they need us down there to make a positive ID. She’s lost a lot of weight and appears to have been living on the streets for some time. Call Ben. You can pick him up on the way through town. I’ll drive my sheriff’s SUV and meet you down there, but I think you’d be more comfortable riding in your own vehicle. Call Dave and Megan. And if you think it’s appropriate, bring the boys.”
As soon as Jeff hung up, Deidre called Ben. Her hands were shaking so badly she had difficulty hitting the buttons on her phone.
“Ben, I hope there’s a chair near you. Sit down.”
“Deidre, what’s happened? Is it one of the boys? Megan?”
“It’s Maren. Ben, they’ve found her. She’s alive!”
There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. “What do you mean she’s alive?”
“It’s true, Ben. Jeff called just minutes ago. The Minneapolis police have her in protective custody and are waiting for us to come pick her up. I’ll stop by your office in an hour or so. I’ve got to hang up so I can call Megan and Dave. Ben, she’s alive!”
Deidre hurriedly dialed Megan’s number, willing her to answer. “’Lo,” the sleepy voice on the end of the line said.
“Megan, get dressed. They’ve found Maren, and she’s alive!”
“Mom, what are you saying? Are you okay?” Then Megan snapped awake. “Are you serious? Oh, God, I never thought this would happen. Where is she? Is she okay? What do you want me to do?”
Deidre was able to settle her daughter down and explain she would pick her up in about an hour. “Be ready,” was her final instruction before disconnecting.
She hit her speed dial for Dave’s work number and anxiously counted the rings. One, two, three, four, and finally an answering machine picked up. “You’ve reached the voicemail of Dave Mason. Please leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
Deidre left a short message, and after disconnecting the call, waited impatiently for him to call back. She figured he was using his phone as a screening device. After five minutes, she could wait no longer and prepared herself for the trip south. Suddenly she remembered the boys, and a wave of guilt washed over her. How could she forget them? Deidre called the school and asked the secretary to have the boys meet her in the principal’s office in twenty minutes. She gave no reason.
Chapter
Forty-Two
WITH THE BOYS SAFELY buckled in the backseat, Deidre had difficulty staying within the speed limit as she sped toward Duluth. The posted speed was sixty-five, and she figured she could push it to seventy without drawing attention. Halfway to the city she upped her speed to seventy-three, half expecting to hear a siren and see flashing lights behind her. Down London Road and through town she pushed the limits as far as she dared, looking at the digital readout of the dashboard clock every couple of minutes. Deidre was shocked when she reached the Federal Building in less than forty-five minutes from Two Harbors. Ben was pacing on the sidewalk when she pulled into a parking spot. Her vehicle had hardly stopped before he was in it, fastening his seat belt.
“Have you talked to Jeff since you left home?” he asked. Deidre admitted she hadn’t, but said he was on his way to the Cities ahead of them.
Ben continued to pepper her with questions as she took Mesabi Avenue to Fourth Street, turned right onto the crowded route, and stopped for every red light along the way. What seemed like an hour later, she veered left onto Woodland Avenue and steered the SUV into an alley. Megan was waiting by a stand holding garbage cans and had the car door open before the vehicle’s tires quit rolling.
“Let’s go,” she said excitedly as she buckled up, then unbuckled the seat belt to rearrange her crumpled sweatshirt. “How sure are you that it’s her?”
Deidre answered, “All I can tell you is that Jeff called this morning to say the Minneapolis police had picked up a young woman off the street early this morning. She has Maren’s purse with her driver’s license in it, a credit card, a debit card, and a few bucks. They told him that this girl is on some kind of drug or drugs and is incoherent, but everything fits as far as eye color and stuff. She’s lost a lot of weight, but they’re pretty sure it’s her.”
The boys had been silent the whole time, their eyes large and questioning, their ears taking in everything. Finally, Steve had the temerity to ask, “But they’re not sure it’s really her, are they?”
“We have to trust that the officers who are taking care of her know what they’re doing,” Ben answered. “They don’t usually call a family unless they’re pretty sure they’re right. This is about the best news we could expect to receive right now.”
“Will she be okay?” Jack asked. “I mean, we learned in school that people who use drugs can catch some bad diseases, and even if they don’t, sometimes the drugs kill them after a while. Will she ever be the same?”
Deidre’s heart broke when she heard her son voice his concern. “Almost all diseases can be cured or controlled,” she assured Jack. “As for being the same, no, she’ll never be exactly the same. We all are changed by what happens to us, good and bad. I promise you this, our love for her will go a long way to helping her heal from whatever she’s been through.”
Jack didn’t let the subject rest. “What do you think she’s been through? Do you think she decided she was bored with us and wanted something different?”
Deidre thought she detected the beginning of guilt in Jack’s comments. “I can say for sure that she didn’t leave us by her own choice. Your sister loved you guys too much to have deserted you.”
“Then what do you think happened?” Steve asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m sure we’re going to find out.” Deidre didn’t voice her next thought. At least I hope we can find a reason for all this pain we’ve been through.
Megan aske
d no more questions after they were out of Duluth. “Come on, boys, let’s play a game,” she said. “We can play alphabet license plates. We’ll keep a list of the states we see on them, in alphabetical order. Whoever spots the most gets an ice cream cone before we start home. Aha, there’s one from Texas up ahead. I’ve got one!”
Steve rolled his eyes at his sister. “You know that you’re not going to buy a cone for just one of us.” He smiled. “But I’ll play anyway.”
The game lasted for less than twenty miles before the conversation turned again to Maren, and Megan gave up trying to create a diversion. For once they sailed through Hinckley without stopping at their favorite bakery. From that point on everyone rode in silence, except for the nervous twitching and shifting they did in their seats.
*****
PARTS OF DOWNTOWN Minneapolis can be rather rough, and that certainly could describe sections of Hennepin Avenue. Jeff had said that Maren was being held at the First Precinct Station of the Minneapolis Police Department, located on that somewhat infamous thoroughfare. Deidre was thankful that the boys were engrossed in their video games and didn’t notice the several strip joints that were just coming alive.
Ben pulled into a parking place across the street from a worn, brick-faced building. Deidre noticed a walk-up apartment house next to the station that had a sign in the window: FOR RENT BY THE WEEK. During the day, the neighborhood looked benign, but she knew that after dark it wasn’t a place she wanted to walk through alone. Records showed that this precinct handled about a half-dozen violent crimes a week. They ranged from rape to homicide, from domestic assault to aggravated battery, with armed robberies thrown in for variety. She shuddered to think of her daughter being on the streets alone in this area.
Ben called Jeff on his cell phone and the others waited for him to finish his conversation, trying to piece together what Jeff was saying by Ben’s side of the exchange.
An Iron Fist, Two Harbors Page 19